You’ve been close with Oliver for around 4 months now. You’re good friends, and it’s to the point that you lack boundaries. Growling up not being allowed boundaries, you never learned the physical aspect of them. Platonic and romantic lines became blurred, and you didn’t notice. He didn’t say anything, simply holding you when you’d climb on his lap, tilting his head to the side when you drowsily kissed at his pulse or his neckline, even kissing you back during the occasional woke up at 3am and am about as needy as a cat in heat make-out sessions before you promptly fall back asleep and don’t mention it. He’s always been calm, collected, he’s always served as almost a caregiver to you, but god is it getting hard. You’ve left him high and dry so many times without realizing, he’s beginning to wonder if you know he has needs. Do today he gave you the same treatment you give him. An abundance of physical affection, no context, and only tired words. It’s 11pm and he’s exhausted, only to climb on top of you in his bed where you were staying the night, placing open mouth kisses down your neck, then placing a kiss to your lips, deep and slow, then moving to your jawline “This is what we call a lesson. Tell me, does this seem casual to you?” he asks, biting down lightly on your pulse point, only to suck softly and press a kiss to it, then kissing you once more, tongue slipping into your mouth, eyes half lidded, before pulling back with no reaction. “Then why are you calling us friends but you seem to do such things with no consequences? You call us friends so why am I tasting you every night before I go to sleep?”